


You Took the Time to Memorize Me

by Undertheblu



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Cheating, Divorce, Domestic Avengers, M/M, Superfamily, Superhusbands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:23:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Undertheblu/pseuds/Undertheblu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony had a wonderful relationship, until they didn't. After a messy divorce and years apart, they are reunited and find that it is hard to forget someone once you've taken the time to memorize them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy Home

**Author's Note:**

> So, this jumps around A LOT. It moves at a very fast pace (at least in the first half).

 

  Steve and Tony got married young, the second they were out of college they had decided it, that very summer in fact. Plenty of people disapproved and tried to persuade the couple to slow things down but they weren't the kind to wait, but they proved that when they adopted their son five years later. Within the last days before their wedding date, Tony had gotten more and more anxious and difficult to deal with.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” Tony sighed, having just snapped at Steve. He ran a hand through his hair, “They just..my Mother's trying to top Madonna's wedding and my Father's still trying to talk me out of it.”

“If you're getting cold feet-”

“I'm _not_.” Tony insisted, scowling up at Steve, “My father just makes me crazy.”

“Don't I know it..”He rolled his eyes, “Baby, if you-”

“I'm fine. It's just a couple more days and then it'll all be over. And I don't just mean that in the sense that I can chill out and stop freaking you out.” Tony said, taking Steve's hand in his, planting a kiss on his knuckles, “I mean, in a couple days we'll be married. You'll be stuck with me forever.”

“There's still time to back out.” Steve grinned, leaning in to give the other a kiss.

Tony sighed with a smile up at the blond,“Only if you take me with you.”

He hated how exhausted Tony looked, this was suppose to be an exciting time for him but he spent all his time arguing with his parents instead. It wasn't what he'd wanted for Tony.

“Why don't we?” He asked, his heart jumping into his throat, “We can just leave.”

Tony frowned slightly, “What? Dump the wedding and stand up all our guests? You'd be okay with that?”

“Yes. Let's just go get married somewhere else. Just you and I.” Steve smiled, delighting at the grin that was creeping onto Tony's face, “I know you're suppose to be the spontaneous one, but we could just lie and say it was your idea.”

“Oh my god,” Tony laughed, squeezing Steve's big hands with his own, leaning up to kiss the big blond's dopey smile, “I love you so much.”

“So we're doing this?” He asked, beaming, “we're ditching our own wedding?”

“When you say it like that, absolutely!”

 

 

 

“Hey, Cutie,” Steve cooed, kneeling down to tap the baby's nose, “how's Daddy's favorite little soldier?”

“If you keep using Motherese on our child he is going to grow up with the verbal skills of a plumber!” Tony yelled from the next room, “Speak to him like the real person he is, Stephen!”

“I think that's offensive to plumbers..” Steve rolled his eyes at the infant like they were sharing a joke, “Yes, Honey. Have you had enough of the rocker, Peter? Ready to go for a walk with Poppa?”

He scooped up the child and cradled him on his shoulder. He turned the corner, bouncing Peter in his arms as he came behind Tony to plant a kiss on Tony's cheek, “Want to come for a walk with us?”

Tony turned and smiled, beaming at the baby, “With my boys? Yeah I want to go for a walk!”

Steve chuckled, “Now who's using babytalk?”

“I wasn't,” Tony scowled, reaching out his arms for his son.

“No, he's mine right now.” Steve turned so Tony had no access, “You had plenty of time to cuddle him, it's your own fault if you didn't. Come on, Peter, let's leave Daddy to do the chores.”

 

 

 

Steve could sense Tony's attitude from the moment he walked through the door.

“Ugh, I swear..” Tony grumbled, shifting the toddler on his hip.

“Well I hope _not_.” Steve replied, leaning forward to kiss his husband and then leaning down to kiss Peter on the head, “Visiting Grandma and Grandpa riled up Daddy, huh?”

“I don't know why I bother,” Tony shook his head, passing the child over to Steve, “I don't think I could please that man if I..whatever. How was your day?”

“Better than yours, it sounds like. Not very productive, but pleasant.”

Tony sighed and smiled at the way Steve hugged the child, Peter wriggled in his arms and snuggled against his chest.

“Tony,” Steve sighed, nuzzling Peter's head, “if it makes you so unhappy to be around your Father, I don't think the job's worth it.”

Tony frowned and turned away, “You know it's not that simple.”

“It could be. You shouldn't have to-”

“Just tell him 'no thanks, I don't want your company I'd rather spend my days inventing things'? It doesn't work like that, Steve. We don't all get to do whatever we want.”

 

 

 

Tony fell face forward onto the bed, groaning as he bounced against the mattress.

“Really now?” Steve chuckled, nose still in his book.

“I'm dying, climbing the stairs was the last of my energy.Why are you still awake?” Tony mumbled, voice muffled through the fabric.

“Waiting for you.”

Tony turned his face to look up at the other, “For me?” He asked with a grin.

“Well,” Steve shrugged, shutting his book, “you and Peter wouldn't go down without finishing the rest of the Chamber of Secrets. He's growing into your attitude.”

“Ohh,” Tony nodded, crawling up onto his knees so he was at eye height, “so you weren't really waiting for me. And I was feeling special for a moment there.”

He smiled as Tony climbed onto his lap, straddling his legs,“I thought you were tired? Correction: dying.”

“Yeah well, I figured you'd be sleeping.” Tony shrugged, leaning forward to kiss Steve's jaw, “ _And_ since the Harry Potter fanatic is asleep..”

Steve sighed pleasantly as his husband rolled against him, it'd been a while since they'd had time to themselves like this where they both weren't exhausted. Not that he wasn't tired and he knew Tony was ready to drop but he obviously had his mind made up. He circled his arms around Tony's middle and pulled him closer, rolling up against Tony's groin.

“What were you working on?” He purred as he started kissing Tony's shoulder.

“Car.” Tony answered, closing his eyes and biting his lip as he leaned back, giving Steve access to his neck. As Steve was working on sucking a hickey on the sensitive skin, he realized how limp Tony was actually going in his arms. He leaned back and looked at the too relaxed expression of Tony's face.

“Hey, are you asleep?” He huffed, giving Tony a tilt.

“Nmph.”

He meant to sigh but a laugh is what came out. His limp husband looked far to similar to their six year old, “Okay. Well, it was nice while it lasted.” He smiled as he cradled Tony against his chest and leaned back so they were both lying down. Tony nuzzled against him and that was that, he was out and Steve didn't even mind.

 

 

 

 

“Dad, how'd you and Pop meet?” Peter asked, chomping on his gum as he passed his father a wrench.

Tony, who was still under the car reached for the tool, “In college, you know that.”

“Yeah I know,” The eleven year old sighed, “but like, how?”

“Ow, shit.” Tony grumbled as a part fell from the car on top of him. He pushed out from under the vehicle, “Don't repeat that. We just met one day, ran into each other in the astrology building..no the library. Yeah, library. Your turn, scoot.”

He stood and offered up the spot to Peter who sat down and slid under the car, “What'd you say?”

“Why are you so interested?” Tony asked, realizing he had grease on his hand just after he had wiped it across his forehead, “You have that eyes-meet-music-playing-fireworks-in-the-background-moment with someone?”

“No.” Peter snapped hastily, aiming a half-hearted kick at the air.

Tony smirked, placing his hands on his hips as he watched his son's legs stretch and bend as he worked on the car, “He was all nervous and excited. Looked a little manic. I guess that's why I liked him. This big fifty-foot guy looking at me like he'd been waiting for me.” He smiled at the memory, “He walked up to me and said something about how he had to get to know me because I was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.”

“What'd yo- ow! Shit.” Peter cried out under the vehicle.

Tony kneeled down and yanked Peter out, searching for the injury. When he didn't see any blood or burns he gave Peter a scowl, “What'd I say about repeating me?”

Later that night while Peter was watching Steve sketch out a sculpture idea he asked the same question.

“Hey Pop,” He began, sifting through one of Steve's books, “how'd you and Dad meet?”

“Sheer will-power.” Steve chuckled to himself.

“Huh?”

“I saw him around all the time. Everyone knew who Tony Stark was, he was..just had a light around him.. He never noticed me so, so I figured if he ever _did_ look my way that would be the day I'd have to go talk to him. Because if I could be lucky enough that he'd glance my way, then maybe I could be lucky enough to make him fall for me.” Steve looked up and laughed at the dumb look on Peter's face, “In case you didn't guess, he _did_ glance my way, Son.”

“So was that the day you went to talk to him?”

“No,” Steve laughed, leaning back in his chair, eyes lighting up as he thought of it, “it shocked me and I lost my nerve.”

“What? Seriously?” Peter groaned, face falling.

“Mhm. So I kept going back to that library and I sat in the same seat each time, hoping he'd come back and notice I was still there. Sort of pathetic now that I think about that..”

“So?” Peter asked, getting annoyed with his father's slow pace, “What happened then?”

“Well, the second time I walked up to him and told him I needed to be around him.”

Peter frowned, “And that worked?”

“Apparently," Steve replied with a smirk.

 

 

 

“I wanted to go out with Harry.” Peter whined, tapping his phone against his hand.

“You can tomorrow.” Tony sighed, tossing a notebook onto the counter as he searched through the pile of papers.

“But we planned on going _today_.” The teenager said, saying the last word with more syllables than necessary, “God forbid I might have plans, you never ask what I want to do, always just make plans for me like I'm a two year old-”

“Peter.” Tony sighed like a tired plea, “We won't be there that long. They haven't seen you in a while and Pop misses them.”

Peter huffed and crossed his arms as he leaned back against the counter top, “Yeah, I'm sure you _really_ want to go there.”

Tony shot Peter a glance, eyebrow raised but he didn't take the bait, “Harry will understand.”

“Daaad.” He complained, melting against the counter, “Come onn.”  
“Please stop whining.” Tony answered, halting for a moment as he realized just how much he sounded like his own father, “You're coming with us.”

“As a buffer.” Peter scowled, lanky limbs stretching out, “If I'm there everyone plays nicer, right? Why does Nan hate you so much anyway?”

Tony rolled his eyes, getting annoyed with the game Peter was trying to start, “Your grandmother doesn't hate me. We just don't see eye to eye on a lot.”

Peter watched his father bristle, “She's different when you're not around, you know.”

“Yeah,” He nodded, grabbing the small digital clock off the table and began pulling it apart like a nervous tick, “your Pop says the same thing. Stop trying to make trouble, you're going and that's that.”

Peter let out a cliche, “Ugh.” And stomped to the other side of the room, “You never care about what I want!”

“Yeah I know, life's rough.” Tony mumbled, shaking his head as Peter stomped down the hall, banging things along the way.

He heard Steve say, “Hey, what's with the noise?”

Steve poked his head in and frowned sadly, “Hey, Babe. Sounds like someone's not pleased about going?”

“That makes two of us.” Tony mumbled, scowling over his shoulder at his husband, “Brat keeps trying to start shit with me.”

“He's still sore about last week.” Steve walked over and wrapped his arms around Tony's middle, leaning forward so he could kiss his cheek, “Don't take it personal, he yelled at me yesterday too.”

“Yeah, won't take your mother's comments about my person personal either.” Tony smirked, turning his head to return the kiss, “Do I have to?” He whined, mimicking the teenager.

“I told her to be nice.” Steve said, thinking back to the first time Tony met his parents and how rude his mother had been to him.

He'd been so worried the whole ride home, afraid of Tony's silence. And then Tony turned down the radio and Steve feared the worst. Tony turned to him seriously and said for the first time, _“I love you. I don't care what she thinks of me, I love you.”_

 

 

 

“Oh, Tony..” Steve breathed, turning to see his husband's shocked face.

Tony swallowed and opened his mouth to speak but said nothing. The news of the plane crash had shook everyone silent and now they all stared at Tony, as if they might miss his reaction. No one moved to change the channel, no one did anything, they all just stared, mouths hanging open as Tony realized his parents were dead. Steve took Tony's hand in his, jumping him in a way he hadn't expected. Tony flinched as if he'd forgotten anyone else was there.

“Tony..” He sighed, pain tugging at his stomach, knowing how bad Tony must feel. He glanced around, everyone staring while Tony stared at the floor, “Tony.” Steve repeated.

“I..”Tony looked up, his lips tight and his eyes wet, “I-I'm not ready for this...” He mumbled before he sunk into Steve's chest.

Steve wrapped his arms around the other as fast as humanly possible, pulling him closer and squeezing him as if he might slip away. He'd never gotten close with the Starks, even after they were married, even though they were Peter's grandparents and _everyone_ knew how rocky Tony's relationship with them was. But here he was, suddenly without a family, a problem Steve couldn't fix for him. It dawned on Steve that somewhere Peter was about to see the news or he'd already heard, somewhere his son was crying over his grandparents. But his husband was silently sobbing into his shoulder and his thought of Peter was quickly forgotten.

He held onto Tony like he might not be able to hold up his own weight, afraid he might melt under his own feelings, “I'm not ready for this..” He repeated.

“You don't have to do this alone.” Steve whispered, squeezing the other closer.

 

 

 

 

That's when Tony really started to change. He'd later say that he couldn't remember the funeral because he was so drunk. And Peter's teenage angst only got worse after his grandparents' deaths, between his anger and Tony's, the two couldn't be in the same room for very long. Steve tried to stay the solid one between them, tried to stay neutral and understanding.

“Fuck you, it's my life.”

Tony sighed, looking over at Peter like he was annoyed, “If you want to waste your life, by all means. But don't expect me to fund it.”

“It's the only parenting tool you offer.”

“Stop it.” Steve sighed, angry that this was happening again. He pointed at Peter when he opened his mouth to continue, “I said stop it! I've had enough of you two.”

“I've had enough of this fucking house.” Peter grumbled, turning away with his arms crossed over his chest. Steve turned to see Tony shifting in the opposite direction, off to find himself another drink.

Steve frowned, brow furrowing as he reached out for Tony's arm, “Tony. Baby. Tony, come on, let's go..”  
He didn't finish his sentence, he didn't even hold on when Tony pulled away. He watched Tony pour himself another glass of gin, hanging onto the bottle with the other hand.

“He doesn't mean any of it.” He said, defeated, crossing his large arms, “Just his hormones..and you know he's having some trouble with Harry.”

“No I don't know.” Tony mumbled, leaning against the marble counter, “We don't actually get much talking in anymore.”

“Drinking doesn't help that.” Steve replied softly, watching Tony's face as he shifted his shoulders, “He resents it.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at his husband, lips slanting into an angry line,“ **You** resent it. I'm just trying to fucking feel something-”

“No, no, you're trying to dull everything.” Steve snapped, arms suddenly uncrossing to rest by his sides, “You need everything to be fuzzy because you can't handle life right now.”

Tony's shoulders hitched up and he folded in on himself for a moment, frowning and turning away. Steve sighed again and moved forward, trying to grab Tony's arm again, “Baby, please. Let's just go to bed.”

“I'm not in the mood, Steve.”

“That's not..” His words trailed off as he Tony pulled away. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, giving a light tug of frustration. He turned away, retreating to the room that had long been called his studio. He hadn't meant to take out his feelings on his art, but it just sort of happened that way. Luckily no one else in the house ever came to his studio to see, because it was painfully obvious the paintings and sculptures he was making were about his family. Neither Tony or Peter were interested in his art right now for it to be an issue.

 

 

 

“I mean, I'm no art critic, but I think they look good.” Bucky said, glancing over his shoulder at Steve who was shaking his head.

“They're just...obvious..” He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he looked down at the paintings, “Like a teenager would paint..obviously angry.”

Bucky shrugged, “If that's how you feel..aren't you suppose to be expressing with this or whatever?”

Steve chuckled, “Yeah, doesn't sell well though.”

“It's not like you're worrying about money right now or anything, right?”

Steve shrugged and closed the book of charcoals and stood to move rearrange the canvases, “That's what Tony says..and yeah selling isn't the point, I just wish I could contribute, you know. And I don't need validation, but I'd like to know someone else appreciates what I do.”

“Well,” Bucky started, standing and following over to look down at the painting Steve was frowning at, “I like your art. And I don't think you should be so hard on yourself, you should express your feelings, that's what's going to make it good art, right?”

“Thanks, Man.” Steve chuckled, wishing he could still talk to Tony like this.

 

 

 

“I really don't give two shits.” Peter snapped, hands firmly planted on his hips in a confident defiant stance.

Tony's eyes narrowed at Peter's curse, “Well then I don't really need to pay for that new camera you were asking for.”

Peter faltered at the mistake he'd made, then he puffed up again, “It's not like I ask that much of you.”

“Right,” Tony chuckled sarcastically, “you never ask for _anything_. You can't always have your way, Peter. You're not old enough to go on a cross state trip in a car with a bunch of teenagers. It's about your safety.”

“You did worse than that at my age! You're so hypocritical.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest.

“And you're not going. That's the end of it.”

“Pop! Why can't I go?”

Steve sighed and glanced up from the salad he was creating. He'd tried to stay out of this argument for the most part, “Peter, you know how we feel about this.”

“No, that's how _Dad_ feels about it! You just nod along.”

“Stop it.” Tony snapped, “The conversation's over.”

“Of course, if the dictator says!”

Tony closed his eyes, shaking his head, obviously trying to calm himself, “I don't have time to argue this, Peter.”

It was true, Tony had been working really hard lately, staying late at his office. He knew he'd been ignoring his family but every time he tried to communicate it would end in a fight. He glanced over at Steve, he could feel his judgement across the room. Peter huffed, sneering at his father before he turned and stomped away.

“Thanks for your help there.” Tony sighed, shaking his head.

Steve frowned in confusion and annoyance,“I backed you up, what did you want?”

“You barely said anything, let me be the bad parent _again_.”

“You aren't the bad parent-”

“I'm the one telling him no, so to him I am.” Tony snapped, watching Steve pour the three salads back into one larger bowl so he could split it into just two salads since Peter wasn't going to be joining them for dinner after all.

“What do you want me to do? Yell at him like you do?” Steve asked, shooting a glance over his shoulder at his husband.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest, “I just wish you'd back me up. Make it _look_ like we're a united front.”

Steve shook his head. He didn't get into the arguments because he just didn't feel the need for conflict. He didn't understand why they couldn't get along, he didn't understand why they were always at each other. And he had little interest in getting into their fights. He looked up to see Tony still glaring across the kitchen at him. The stared back at each other in a silent questioning moment, neither really knowing what to do. Tony let his eyes drop, shaking his head down at his feet, his arms stretching to wrap around himself. Steve frowned, feeling bad that Tony suddenly looked so vulnerable.

“I'll..I'll go talk to him if you want.” Steve offered with a shrug.

Tony sighed and made a face at him, “I want you to make decisions once in a while, Steve. If you want to go talk to him, go talk to him. Go play good cop.”

Steve pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. He held up the salad bowls, “So, is this still happening?”

Tony chuckled at the snarkiness, “No, I've lost my appetite. I'll go work on-”

“You need to eat something.”

“I will later.” Tony waved as he turned and walked away. He hated how passive Steve was when it came to raising their son. He hated how Steve just kept everything inside while Tony exploded.

 

 

 

Steve felt like he was going to be sick as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He cradled his head in his hands, his head was throbbing and his chest was aching. Bucky sat up at the noises of agony Steve was making.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked, touching Steve's bare shoulder.

Steve glanced over his shoulder and winced, he was definitely going to be sick. He folded in on himself again, hugging his arms around himself. He could feel Bucky's eyes on him and he wanted to lash out at him.

“Steve..”

Steve pushed off from the bed to search for his clothes, avoiding Bucky's stare. He wanted to hide himself.

“Steve-”

“ _Please_.” He snapped, harsher than he'd meant to, “Just..I can't..”

He yanked on his pants and Bucky sighed and sat straight up, “Steve. Wait, calm down.”

Steve barked out a laugh, reminiscent of the sound Tony made when he was mad, “Calm down? Really, Buck?” He pulled his shirt over his head, “My child and husband are at home and I'm _here_ with you!”

He raked a hand through his mussed hair and then placed his hands on his hips, looking down and giving himself a moment to relax his breathing. God, what was he going to do when he went home? His head ached from the alcohol from the night before and it made the whole situation that much worse. He wanted to die.

Bucky stood and slipped into his boxers, “Hey, it's okay.” He came over and touched Steve's arm. Steve hadn't even noticed the tears in his eyes.

“It is not okay.” Steve choked, shrugging Bucky away, “I'm sorry, I need to go.”

He rushed away before Bucky could try to pull him back in. He remembered most of the previous night. Enough to make him feel terrible. They had been drinking, drinking way too much. And he was angry, he was upset with Tony and wanted time away. He couldn't place how they had ended up in bed together, he didn't understand how that had happened, even if he was drunk. He cringed at how Bucky had expected him to stay. It was safe to say he'd ruined that friendship, let alone his marriage. He raced home, unsure what he was going to say when he got there but he needed to see Tony.

When he got home the fire that had forced him home disappeared. Once he was in the house he was afraid to see Tony. He felt like Tony would instantly know, like he would see it on Steve's face. He suddenly worried about the way he smelled, maybe he shouldn't have dashed off so fast. He was just about to sneak away when he heard a sound from the kitchen. He let out a heavy sigh and propelled himself forward. He needed to tell Tony what he'd done. He needed to be honest.

Tony was bent over the table, sucking down coffee while staring at a computer screen. He looked up when Steve entered, “Hey, sorry I didn't come to bed last night, got kind of lost.”

Steve winced, Tony didn't even know he hadn't been home, “Uh-”

“Peter's out with Harry,” Tony sighed, reaching back and stretching in his chair. He shut the laptop and turned to face Steve, frowning when he saw Steve's face, “What's wrong?”

Steve took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest, “I..need to tell you something.” Tony's brow furrowed in concern as Steve sat in the chair next to his, “You know I love you.”

“Oh, god, what happened?” Tony asked, trying to joke, “Am I dying?”

“Tony, please,” Steve sighed, taking Tony's hand in his, “I need to say this.”

Tony's smirk slid from his face, “Okay..”

Steve squeezed Tony's hand, looking him in the eye as he spoke, “I..wasn't home last night..” Tony looked back at him, waiting for Steve to continue even though it was obvious he wanted to talk, “I was..at Bucky's..”

“Okay?”

He sucked in air and let out a slow exhale, afraid he might start shaking, “Tony.....I..I was drunk and...I..I slept with him..”

Tony's shock read on his face, he pulled back, trying to yank his hand from Steve's, but Steve clung to him, “I know! I know it was terrible and I never would have..I wish it had never happened, it was so stupid. It didn't mean anything and I know that doesn't change that it happened but I love **you** and I feel awful for having done something like this to you..” His words trailed off as Tony's face sunk, “Baby, say something.”

Tony took a deep breath like he was about to say something but then he just exhaled, his mouth turning down into a frown as he looked down at Steve's hand. Finally he said, “You know..I always thought that I would be the one to fuck this up.” Steve winced when Tony's eyes flew up to his own, “You probably did too..guess you surprised us both, huh?”

“Tony..”

The sadness in Tony's voice killed Steve. He expected anger but he really wasn't prepared for the sadness. Tony sat back, moving away from the other and yanking his hand away. Steve reached forward again and Tony hissed, “Don't touch me.” Tears filled Tony's eyes and he didn't try to hide it. He wanted Steve to know how hurt he was.

“I'm so sorry.”

“Yeah, of course you are.”

“Tony, if I could take it back-”  
“Well you can't! You did it, Steve. Ugh..” Tony crossed his arms over his chest in a protective, defensive stance. Steve was surprised Tony hadn't jumped up yet, it was shocking how still he was. Tony glared back at his husband and Steve could feel the real anger arriving, “You were drunk, huh? That's your excuse?”

“It's not-” He began.

“Amazing how I can stay faithful with alcohol intoxicated and you can't.”

“It was a mistake.” Steve insisted, avoiding the comment he wanted to make about Tony's drinking. The angry tears on Tony's face made Steve want to comfort him but he knew he wasn't allowed to.

“You're damn right,” Tony snapped, lip curing into a sneer, pushing away from the table and standing,“How could you..I can't...ugh, Steve get out. I can't even look at you.”

“Tony-” Steve stood to follow after his husband. He reached out to grab Tony's arm.

“You know what I see when I look at you?” Tony whirled around, giving Steve's large chest a shove that had virtually no effect, “I see..god..I see him, Steve. I see you and him and...god, how could you?” He covered his eyes with the palm of his hand, “How...Just leave.”

“Tony, please.”

“Get _out_. I don't want you here!” He shouted through his tears, balled up hands now shaking. His voice cracked as he tried to yell,“Leave, you fucking asshole! Get out of my house!”

It broke Steve's heart to see Tony so distraught and he hated that the best thing he could do for him was leave. So he did as Tony commanded and left.

 


	2. Finalizing Things

    Steve took a deep breath before he entered the house, Sam waiting out in the truck until called for. Reentering his home, he felt nervous, uncertain what he was going to find. He had to get some things, he'd been gone for weeks and had run out of clothes and had to stop borrowing from his friend. He inhaled, having missed the smells of home. He heard familiar sounds and felt a great longing. He rounded into the kitchen where Peter had been whining about something while Tony poured them both coffee. For years Peter wanted to drink coffee like his Daddy and Tony had tried to keep it away from him when he had learned it wasn't very good for the child but it was an addiction they shared and Tony secretly appreciated the bond.

Peter beamed when he looked up and saw his father, “Pop!”

Tony looked up in surprised and quickly looked away, renewed anger painting his face. Steve frowned as he watched Tony's hands search around for something to grab, something to do. He wondered if Tony had forgotten he was coming today. Peter stood and reached out to hug his father who had been away.

“Are you staying?”

Steve glanced over at Tony before answering. He was surprised Peter didn't know the situation, he had assumed that Tony had been telling all sorts of stories, painting him into something ugly, he was really shocked to find Peter in the dark.

“Um, I'm..no I'm not, Pete. I'm just picking up some things.”

Peter's face fell and soon turned sulky. Steve saw him shoot a glare over at Tony, “Do you not live here anymore?”

Tony inhaled sharply and leaned against the counter. Steve's heart broke all over again as he saw Tony's hands tighten on the edge. He wanted to stride over and scoop Tony up in his arms, if Tony would just allow that he'd never let him go again.

“We're figuring that out,” He answered apologetically, unsure what else to say as he really didn't know the answer. He turned to leave the kitchen and Peter followed after him. He trailed behind Steve as he packed up a new bag of clothes. Steve then in turn followed Peter into his room to see the project he had been working on, even if he was a bad husband he didn't need to be a bad father.

“Why aren't you just staying here? This is dumb.”

“It's..not forever.” Steve said, hearing the lie himself. He pulled Peter into a hug and held him for a while, missing the tickle of his son's unruly hair, “Let me know if you want to get together or need anything, okay?”

Once he had finished saying goodbye Peter skulked off and just as he was about to leave he heard them in the kitchen.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Peter..” Tony sighed, “There's more to it.”

“More like you chased him off!”

“I don't want to talk about this.”

“Of course not, not when you  _ know _ you're wrong!”

Steve dropped his bag and turned as he heard Tony's voice falter, “Just  _ stop _ ..”

“Why does  _ he _ have to leave?” The teenager snapped, “He didn't do anything.  _ You're _ the one-”

“That's enough.” When Steve reentered the kitchen Tony was curled in on himself, arms over his chest with his eyes squeezed shut. He looked up at Steve's entrance and stern tone. There were tears in Tony's eyes and his nails were digging into his arms like claws.

“You don't know the whole story,” Steve said, looking pointedly at Peter, “you shouldn't be speaking to your father like that either way. Apologize.”

Peter's mouth fell open in shock, “ _ He's _ the one-”

“ _ He _ hasn't done anything.” Steve interrupted, voice pitching low and stern. Tony watched on, unprepared when Steve continued, “I cheated on your father, Peter. It was wrong of me and..you shouldn't be taking it out on him, he has every right to be angry.”

Peter recoiled and looked like he wanted to say something. He looked over at Tony, who had a hand covering his mouth now. The teen left the room, speaking to neither of them.

“You shouldn't have..”

“Better he should know than scream at you.” Steve mumbled, placing his hands on his hips as he looked down at the floor. When he glanced up again Tony was trying not to cry, he could tell by how thin Tony's lips had gotten. Tony inhaled sharply in an attempt to keep from sobbing. At the painful sound Steve found himself suddenly rushing across the room and pulling Tony to his chest. Tony tried to wriggle away at first but gave up the fight almost instantly. Feeling Steve's arms around him put Tony over the edge and tears streamed down his face and onto Steve's shirt. He absolutely hated Steve for being so composed all the time.

“I'm sorry.” Steve whispered.

He was so sick of hearing those words and feeling like he should be the one apologizing. He pulled away and wiped away the tears, “I need you to leave.”

Steve sighed sadly, “So that's it?”

Tony reigned in his own sadness and looked Steve right in the eye, a bold move he wasn't sure he would be able to handle, “That's it.”

Steve took a deep breath in and nodded, “If that's what you want.” He turned away, missing the look of devastation on Tony's face as he walked away.

 

  
  
  
     Steve had his things removed when he knew he wouldn't be bothering anyone, when both Peter and Tony were away. He'd expected Tony to round up his belongings and throw them out on the lawn. But he found his razors in the cupboard, his good shoes still in the closet next to Tony's, all his things were scattered among Tony's. He found himself sitting down on the bed and reaching for a pillow, Tony's pillow. He lifted it up to his cheek and breathed in the familiar smell of his husband. He desperately missed that smell, ached for it. He dropped back onto the bed, nuzzling his face against the comforter's fibers. He missed lying next to Tony there, wrapping his arms around the other in the night when nightmares would take hold of one of them.

  
  


 

Steve tried to give Tony his space and Tony took Steve's silence as a punctuation. The more time passed the worse the distance between them became. Their friends tried to patch things up, tried to push them back into each other's arms. But the more anyone tried to help, the more the betrayal stung.

“Just stop,” Tony said, combing a hand through his hair.

Rhodey sighed, frowning as Tony lifted his class to his lips, “I just want you to be-”

“Well I'm not. I'm not happy.” Tony snapped, “And I'm not going to be happy any time soon. My husband left me, so you can just stop.”

“He left because-”

“Because I drove him away,” He grumbled, downing his drink, “drove him into someone else's bed..”

“You know he would run back here if you'd just say. He still wants to be with you.”

Tony looked over at the other and shook his head, “No. His things are gone. He's gone.”

They both glanced up at the sound Peter made when he entered the room. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder, “I'm going to Harry's.”

He paused for a second to see if his father would object. When he didn't, Peter huffed and heaved the backpack up further on his shoulder. He stomped out and Tony sighed.

“I say he can't go out and he's angry, I  _ let _ him go out and he's angry. He's always so upset with me..”

“He's angry with the situation.” Rhodey answered, reaching a hand across the table to touch Tony's, “And you're the nearest thing he can strike out at.”

Tony raked his fingers through his hair again, shaking his head, “He keeps trying to take care of me, when we're alone. Like he's the parent..like he can make up for it all.. I know he's hurting, Rhodey, but I can't help him because I'm so selfish and wrapped up in my own shit-”

“Tony, take it easy-”

   They both looked up at the sound of the front door being opened, Rhodey glanced over in time to catch the hopeful look on Tony's face. Pepper's heels clacked against the tiled floor, she frowned in sympathy when she entered the room.

“Oh, Tony.” She sighed, walking over to cup the back of his head and planting a kiss on his temple, “I just saw Peter leaving.”

Tony nodded and sunk a little lower in his chair.

“Has he eaten?” Pepper asked, directing the question at Rhodey even as she was turning to find food.

“Coffee.” Rhodey scoffed in response.

“Keeping with his usual diet, hm?” She scowled, “I'll make something.”

“I'm fine.”

“No, Tony, you're  **not** . We all see it and you need to let us help you.”

Tony slumped back against his seat and Rhodey stood to pour another cup of coffee for them both.   
  
  


 

 

    Finalizing the divorce was ugly, they were both miserable and wanted to take it out on the other. There were fewer and fewer days where anyone saw Tony sober and Steve had made the mistake of commenting on Peter's welfare with an alcoholic parent. That sparked a custody battle that no one had expected. 

  “This really isn’t necessary.” Pepper insisted.

Tony gave her a pointed look, “No?”

 “No. You’re both being ridiculous.”

“It’s not my fault he doesn’t have a better lawyer.” 

 “Even so, you don’t need to-”

“ _ He _ didn’t need to go fuck someone else and  **then** try to take my kid away from me!” He snapped, glaring at her over the glass he had lifted to his lips.

 “It was miscommunication.”

Tony huffed, ignoring her explanation for the papers on his desk. That was the one good thing to come out of the recent explosion, Tony had buried himself in his work. Pepper often longed for the days when Tony would just sign a paper and leave the rest to her. She crossed the desk and laid a hand on his shoulder, the other smoothing his hair.

  When the phone began to ring, she moved to grab it but Tony was faster. His eyes narrowed the second he saw the number, “What?”

    “What do you think you’re doing?” Steve’s angry voice answered.

 “What? Shocked that I’m fighting back?” 

“You  **know** I don’t have money, what are you even trying to take?!” 

“ **You’re** the one trying to take something.”

  Pepper rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Tony, I never said I was going to take Peter from you,  _ you _ started this!”

“You said I was an unfit parent!” 

  When Tony’s voice went up in volume Pepper swiped the phone from his hand, “Hello, Steve. I’m sorry but Tony has a meeting he needs to get to.” 

 On the other end, Steve let out a defeated sigh, “Tell him I’m not trying to steal Peter. I..don’t want this..”

She glanced at Tony, “He knows.”  _ He’s just hurting. _

“Hang up the phone.” Tony grumbled, standing to go to the bar kept in his office. Pepper narrowed her eyes as he swapped his glass for the entire bottle of bourbon. He took a long swig from the bottle, heavy a heavy sigh as he rested against the counter. He heard Pepper’s goodbye and the click that ended the call. He looked up and was shocked to see a framed family photo someone had forgotten to remove. All reminders of Steve had been taken down and hidden away, but this one had managed to survive the cleaning.

 “Tony, I know you’re angry-”   
“I’m not angry,” He shook his head, staring at the photo. He looked so mind-blowingly happy standing next to his husband, arm wrapped around his waist. Steve’s hand on his shoulder, his ring shining, “I’m devastated.. I’m losing everything, Pep..”

She hadn’t seen him break down in weeks, so it was surprising at first, “No-”

“My husband’s gone,” He scrunched up his face, hating himself for still using the word  _ husband  _ so freely, “my son..won’t talk to me.”   
“Well, you can take pleasure knowing he isn’t speaking to either of you, so you’re not special in that aspect, Dear.” 

 He sighed and turned to face her, “I can’t function without him.” He said honestly, looking at her hopelessly.

She frowned in sympathy, walking over to remove the bottle from his grip and take his hands in hers, “I’m going to be here, for all of it. If you need to fall down, I’ll pick you back up.”

 

 

  
    Steve threw the phone, hearing it smack against the wall with a loud crack. He just wanted to talk face to face with Tony. He was tired of screaming over a phone. He walked over to pick up the now broken phone. He stared at it for a moment, thinking about the way Tony refused to let him apologize. The broken phone cracked in his fist as he flexed his muscles around the little machine that would never work again. He shook his head in surprise, shocked at the aggressive action. Maybe that was the sort of emotion Tony said he wanted from him. 

     He so wanted to hate Tony for the way he was behaving, because he really _was_ being ridiculous, but he still felt so terrible for what he’d done that he couldn’t. He still loved Tony too much to be truly angry. He was so sorry for hurting Tony, he’d always promised to protect Tony from anything and everything and he had been the one to rip out his heart. It wasn’t like Tony’s behavior was a surprise. When Tony got hurt he got ugly, really ugly. He’d seen Tony in action too many times, and even been on the receiving end of Tony’s anger quite a bit. 

   He knew he deserved everything Tony was throwing at him, but it still felt unfair. He hadn’t spoken to Peter in weeks and he’d had to buy himself an apartment because he was too embarrassed to keep living at friend’s, even though they’d all been willing to harbor him. He hadn’t spoken to Bucky since that morning he ran away and he knew he really should explain but he’d been focusing all his energy on Tony. A battle, he was quickly realizing, he couldn’t win.

  
  


 

    Tony winced at the one ray of sunlight that had managed to poke it’s way into the otherwise dark room. He sat up, oops too fast, still feeling drunk.  Better drunk than a hangover he thought as he stretched, feeling a crick in his neck. Stretching out his legs, his foot made contact with something. He turned his head, oops too fast, and after he focused his eyes he realized he wasn’t alone in the bed. He wondered when Steve’s hair had gotten so long and then his foggy brain remembered that Steve didn’t sleep beside him anymore.

  His body tensed, his naked body he now realized. Fuck. Who was this?

 He hadn’t experienced this scenario since college. All that wondering where he was and who he was with had ended when Steve came along. Now that his husband was gone, it seemed like that old life had risen up to greet him. The blonde stirred and turned, grinning up at Tony.

  “Morning, Gorgeous.” 

Ugh. Tony scowled, wincing as a headache started to creep into his skull, “Who are you?”

 “Oh it’s like that?” The man laughed, sitting up, taller than Tony even in a sitting position, “Well, while that hurts my feelings, I understand. My name’s Thor.”

 Tony snorted, “What kind of frat name is that?” 

Thor smiled, apparently he’d had a good enough time with Tony that he didn’t mind the insults. Tony wanted to throw up. 

 “You need to leave,” He sighed, raking his hand over his face. 

“Kicking me out already?” Thor pouted, watching Tony stand.

“I don’t want my son to see you.” He answered bluntly. Thor went from staring at Tony’s ass to the back of his head.

 “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Tony replied, grabbing a pair of sweatpants, shit they were an old pair of Steve’s.. Angrily he pulled them on, having to tie the drawstring tight and still have them hang low on his hips, “Sorry, but this really isn’t going to bloom into anything.” He heard the cold tone in his voice but he didn’t care. 

  “Alright,” Thor nodded, getting to his feet and letting the sheets drop away from his body. Tony glanced over and sighed, annoyed with himself. He seriously had a type, there was no denying that. Thor wasn’t Steve but he was blonde and big, really big. 

 “Listen,” Thor began as he pulled on his clothes, “last night you were pretty… If you want someone to talk t-”

 “Oh god,” Tony groaned, “am I really that pathetic? Fuck, when one night stands want to be your therapist..” 

“Look, I’m not trying to step on any toes here. Just thought maybe, you know I gave you some comfort last night-”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” Tony whined, squeezing his eyes shut, “seriously, you need to go.” 

 He hated how guilty he felt, like he still needed to be faithful to Steve. He glanced over and saw Thor still looking at him, with pity no less. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, trying to remember if Peter was home today and how he was going to sneak this guy out if he was. He couldn’t let Peter see this. He already hated him enough. 

  “I’ll leave, but hey if you need-”   
“I don’t need you!” He snapped, his head swinging up, “I don’t  _ need _ you for anything! I need you to leave so I can pretend this never happened.”

  The headache was growing and he was suddenly seeing the parallel that had destroyed his marriage. When he looked at the rumbled bed all he could picture was this same scenario with Steve. He couldn’t remember the previous night in detail but he remembered big shoulders and strong arms, just like Steve’s. But it wasn’t Steve, it was some stranger drunk Tony had used to try and simulate a fraction of the life he’d lost. 

  Tony squeezed his eyes shut, crossing his arms over his still bare chest, “Can you just go?” He whispered, hearing his voice crack. Now he was reaching a new kind of low, he was about to cry in front of this meathead who’d fucked him the night before. Suddenly he felt arms around him and he was being pulled into Thor’s embrace. 

 “What’s happening?” He asked, confused as Thor squeezed him.

“Whatever you’re going through, you’re going to get through it.” Thor said, voice oddly gentle, “But it is  _ okay _ to not be okay.”

 How eloquent. Tony scowled but couldn’t hide the hurt noise that slipped from his throat. God his life had gotten sad, now being strangled in a comforting embrace of this neanderthal. 


End file.
